


Brothers In Arms

by seademons



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 10:01:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18635893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seademons/pseuds/seademons
Summary: Medieval AU where Roxas is a spoiled little prince and Axel is the King's trusted knight.





	Brothers In Arms

It happened by complete accident, early in the evening, when the candles had already been lit, but the sun still breathed outside for a second longer, setting slowly, a lethargy in the air as its rays flooded the windows with color, red scintillating from chandeliers and orange bathing the cool tiles of the hallway, bouncing off of the breastplate and caressing the metal that enveloped _him,_ the Knight. _Him,_ the one whose hair rose envy even in the light that warmed it, whose armor shone as if just polished, who complemented the others as the newest face of the court, standing right out in a crowd of nobles in houppelandes and furs. They talked loudly, gesticulating with their hands and blocking the hallway in a tight circle around his father, the air smothered by self-importance and the same voices that the Kingdom already knew too well, had heard too much, except for _him._ In utter silence, the Knight watched his counterparts express themselves, his green eyes flicking from one face to the other as they seemed to disgorge passionate words from the back of their throats, rising from quietude inflamed to share their own thoughts, to add to the discussion. A few rounds of this, and the sharp greens set themselves squarely on his face.

It had been a shock, really, to have been spying on the one who would notice him, and it pushed him to lean away from the corner as quickly as he had been caught, nearly cracking his head open on the wall behind himself. Wide-eyed, he stood still, feeling the speed of his own beating heart race against the ribs that protected it, leaping from the scare. His face prickled with embarrassment, and he left before anyone else could’ve seen him in such a state.

“I saw the new court last night.”

At the announcement, his brother turned to look at him, the rebec in his hands abandoned for a still moment.

“Really? Who’s in it? The Duchess and who else?”

“The Duchess, the Duke, some of our cousins, and… A Knight, in full armor, taller than all the rest. Someone I’ve never seen before.”

“A Knight?”

“Yes. A bad sign, isn’t it?”

“No, we’ve always had a Knight in the court. Leigh, I think.”

“We have?” He paused, eyebrows creased in the center. “Guess I never noticed him.”

“Guess you never have.”

Standing on the second floor balcony, the one fenced with balustrades that overlooked the great hall downstairs, he watched the court leisurely trickle out of the palace, leaving the front doors one by one, as if hanging back for a last word, or a half-finished sentence. There, the Knight stood by his father’s side, still quiet throughout the entirety of the court’s parting, this time fitting in with clothes unsuited for battle, the houppelande that he wore pulled up on one side, a sleeve turned up to the shoulder, falling heavily on the other arm, the silk and fur cascading into pleats down to the back of his knees. He looked entirely different, but not any less noticeable, his fiery hair a brilliant contrast against the black and gold of his garments, only partially hidden underneath a feathered hat whose wide brims obscured his face. A true shame, the shine of the greens in his dreams now elusive to appreciation.

Light footfalls emerged from behind him, making him turn to eye the one who should catch him in the act this time around, only to find his own brother approaching, a friendly smile on his face. Its contagious nature had him grinning wide in response.

“Sora, come here.” He whispered, beckoning his brother closer with an upturned palm. “I need you to see this.”

“What is it?”

He turned to point the Knight out over the balustrade, to indicate him with a nod of the head and a knowing glance, but, when he did, the two in the foyer were already halfway up the staircase, talking in low voices and hushed tones as they climbed, a stark difference from the general extravagance of the court itself. The sight shocked him, though briefly, muting him for a full second anyway, blue eyes wide at the two that slowly neared his spot upstairs, the brim of a black hat covering half of the Knight’s face. In silence, and far too close to have his voice be out of earshot from those two, all he could do was watch them reach the top and invariably cross in front of him, lounging right next to the steps. Inwardly, he cringed, prepared to have his father introduce the both of them to this new courtier who had already caught sight of him yesterday, lurking around like a creep. Knowing his father, that would’ve been an inevitability, and, when the King paused his walking with a pointed glance at his two sons who loitered upstairs, he did his best not to display his real feelings about it, however warmly his face tingled from it.

The Knight turned to face them properly then, two sharp greens cutting from underneath the shadow of his hat and fixing themselves directly onto his face, first thing, a quirk of the brow as if to accompany recognition. He promptly burst into flames right there, but stood coolly by the balustrade regardless, a hand casually resting on it to showcase nonchalance, the shadow of a smile gracing his porcelain face while it could. Next to him, Sora straightened up.

“Sir Leigh, the princes, Sora and Roxas.”

A bow, hat down, feather up, fully concealing his face now, the pleats of his houppelande shifting and fluttering with the elegance of his movements. Roxas could’ve watched him all day.

“It’s an honor, Your Highnesses.”

Oh, his voice. His voice. Low and deep, smooth as the silk that he wore, velvety enough to have been touched, the grace of it right on par with the rest of him, the air that they breathed a lot more expensive in his presence. He wanted to touch him, to feel the softness of his skin under tracing fingertips, to shine his face into the light like the day before, under the warm orange hues that had colored him, and look directly into his eyes. This Knight had his breath coming in shorter.

“Sir Leigh, why do I know this name?” Sora asked, voice level, desultory, making the Knight glance up at him this time around, undoing the bow to stand upright once again, his natural posture easily towering over the both of them.

From this close, having to glance up to see his face felt… Interesting. It was a widely known fact that the Royal Family wasn’t the tallest of the bunch, and servants and friends being marginally taller than the lot of them wasn’t uncommon, but this felt different. The width of his shoulders, the broadness of his chest, the size of his body in general, it all had his height playing a separate part here, where what really made an impression, what really had Roxas drinking him up was the entirety of it all, of _him,_ from hat to boots, and not just the one piece. He tried not to check him out too openly, though, finding it particularly difficult not to stare at the front of the houppelande that he wore, where it opened into a sharp V-cut to show the doublet underneath, unbuttoned at the top. Unbuttoned at the top! Who wore it like that? He couldn’t stop looking at it, bewitched by the sliver of skin that it revealed.

“My father has only recently resigned from the court, Your Highness; perhaps you’ve heard of him.”

The movement of his neck as he spoke, the shape of the words on his lips, entrancing. Utterly entrancing.

“Of course I have. That explains it.”

“As a valuable courtier, Sir Leigh will be occupying my office and the study fairly often, right alongside the Duchess.” His father explained, cutting their interactions short. “Now, I know you boys aren’t shy around her concerning political matters, so don’t be shy around him concerning the military. Especially you, Sora.”

“Oh, I won’t be shy, sir. I promise.”

With approving nods, the two bid them their respective farewells and left for the bowels of the palace, continuing on across the second floor balcony and enveloping themselves underneath one of the numerous arches that led through a maze of rooms, some more indispensable than others, and a few of subjective importance, carrying a handful of emotional attachment within themselves. His eyes traced the back of the Knight’s clothes as he walked off, the one exposed shirt sleeve, puffy along the arm and tight at the wrist, a shine of white to balance out the black and the gold, matching with the feather, the hat brim on that side turned up for that cascading illusion, his entire outfit draping to the left. Perhaps he was right-handed, he thought, watching the way that the Knight’s right hand rested at his hip while the left simply hung loosely at his side, as if uncomfortable that it had no hilt of a sword to lean upon. Yes, surely, a right-handed warrior, as it should be.

“I call dibs on the Knight.”

The sudden announcement had him whipping around to stare at his brother, betrayal in the blue of his eyes and a hard scowl digging deep into his forehead. Absolutely fucking not.

“No, no way; I saw him first.”

“But did you call dibs on him? I don’t think you did.”  

“Sora, that’s common fucking courtesy. Remember Eric, and how I _kindly_ let you have him?”

“Hm.” Two blues moved from his face to glance off over his shoulder, his brother growing pensive for a whole second, possibly his new record for general thinking, as far as that went with him. “I guess… I do, technically, owe you.”

“Right. On a side note, how fucking dare you?” Here, he lowered his voice to a whisper, even though the servants that meandered through the hallways weren’t close enough to really hear them. Sora’s brow raised. “I call you over here to see this guy, no, to experience this entire moment, and you try to snatch him from under my wing? Bold, Sora. Very heartless.”

“Yeah, whatever, I didn’t know this was who you meant. He didn’t look much of a Knight to me.”

“Should’ve seen him yesterday, all polished armor and a helmet at the hip. He’s something else.”

Sora huffed, one impulse away from rolling his eyes.

“Good luck, then.”

He snorted, a half-smirk threatening to tug at his lips.

“I don’t need luck. We’re tied, remember?”

“Sure, but with this guy, I think you’ll need it.”

He hummed, his eyes naturally drifting off to the empty arch where the Knight had gone through not two minutes ago.

“We’ll see about that.”

It was only a game, really, that they played, whenever a new, outstanding face showed up at the palace, nothing serious, no commitment; the whole point was to be desirable, was to make them want to do it, to drive them to the edge, carefully, skillfully, and then push them over it. It was harmless fun more than anything, just a better hobby to pass the time with than playing the piano all day or reading about impossibilities until their eyes were too heavy to keep that up. Running around the yard hadn’t qualified as proper manners for princes of their age for the last few years, so they had to have come up with something else that would’ve distracted them from the fact that this palace, truthfully, was a prison, and men seemed a sure way to do it, infallible every single time. These days, to go outside, they’d have to use their time intelligently, as in, they’d have to do some sort of training, pick up swordsmanship, archery, equestrianism, or anything else, when all they really wanted to do was sunbathe and sneak off to the closest lake for a late-afternoon swim, like they had done their whole lives.

No more.

Roxas hung around the back of the palace for most of the afternoon, inconspicuously meandering about the hallway that led up to the study, passing through the nearest rooms with a book in his hand, pretending to have been greatly absorbed by it, when, in fact, he had been watching the people that came from and went to the study. Servants, members of the court, his father and some relatives peppered this wing throughout the day, going about their duties as the hours passed, the sun began to set, and the study seemed never to fully empty. It was only when the Duchess, minutes before absolute nightfall, retired for the evening that he knew nobody else would come, and the Knight had been left entirely alone for once. A long process, sure, but one that had always paid off in the end. As the Duchess disappeared underneath a tall archway, he left seclusion, quiet steps hurrying down the hallway to the one door that mattered.

The Knight had just gotten up from a seat when he walked in, a couple of books in hand, the big, long mahogany table littered with thick volumes, surely from all of the meetings that had taken place here today. Quietly, he closed the door, watching the Knight slide a few books into the two-story high bookshelf that lined every wall in here, enough to compete with their actual library, but not enough to overtake it. He hadn’t been noticed yet, and took the opportunity to glance the Knight down again, the rise and fall of his houppelande as he reached for the shelves, the puffy, white sleeves of his shirt, both exposed now, and the intricate details of his boots, up to the knees, accents in gold. With one turn, pleats fluttering in a half-circle, the Knight spotted him, his hands pausing in midair, then coming down to rest onto the table, his upper body bent over it.

“Your Highness.” His voice, low and smooth, almost confidential, followed by a smile, the most beautiful one that he had ever seen. It set his chest on fire. “To what do I owe the honor?”

Moving away from the door, he stepped further into the room, nearing one end of the table, rounded at the edges, piled up with books. With both hands hiding behind his back, he played coy.

“Sir Leigh, I was hoping you’d have a spare moment to brief me on some of our battle tactics, or is this a bad time?”

“No, not at all. In fact, it’d be my pleasure. Come, have a seat.”

A pleased little smile tugged at the corner of his lips and rounded out his cheeks as he approached the Knight, circling the table to where the man stood, a clear spot on the mahogany from where he had tidied up. Side-by-side, they sat, neighboring seats that soon had been twisted around to face one another, the Knight asking him some basic military questions to gauge his knowledge on it, to know where to begin to assess his inquiries. In reality, he knew far more than he led the man to believe, passing it off as uncertainty in regards to his own understandings from lack of use.

“I’ve never been to the battlefield.” He confessed, voice small, almost timid. It was true. “I suppose I’m more of a scholar on the subject myself.” Well, not exactly. Sure, he had spent far more time reading about it and discussing his literary consumptions than performing them to an audience, but to say that he had never held a sword would’ve been a blatant lie. Perhaps he hadn’t fought any real enemies yet, but he wasn’t that much of a stranger to the training fields. Practicing in the summertime had always been a favorite of his, though the Knight needn’t know about that right now.

“As far as winning a battle goes, Your Highness, you might just be a valuable asset. A decisive one, even.”

“Perhaps.” He mused, watching the relaxed posture of the Knight, leaning his back onto the naked chair, an elbow resting on the table, that hand gesticulating every so often as he talked. “Though, I’d like to go out there and actually do it. Kill this warfare virginity with some real blood, yeah?”

The amused smile on the Knight’s face had his heart racing, encouragement flowing down his veins.

“Will you be there for my first time?” A tilt of the voice, a quirk of the brow, his head cocked just the slightest bit aside. Suggestive, but just so, only a little bit of interest, and the Knight nearly laughed, a snort leaving him instead, the smile only growing wider. Soon it’d break into a gorgeous grin, he was sure.

“Of course. As your father’s right arm, my place on the field should be right next to yours.”

“Really? Well, if I knew that earlier, I would’ve come down to the barracks at the first little altercation.” He grinned very pointedly, his brows bouncing once, the light amusement on the Knight’s face like fuel to his bloodstream, pushing him to be bolder. Sora had wished him luck this morning, but no one had ever been so easy. This evening was in the bag.

“Is that so?”

“It is so, for, I’m sure you’ve noticed, I quite enjoy your company, Sir Leigh.” Voice low, soft, hinting at something far more sentimental than was actually true, and making the Knight’s brows raise in the process, clearly eating this up. He almost even laughed, but limited himself to a wide smile instead, sure to have shown the dimples on his cheeks, one of his greatest assets. “Obviously, you’re a man of strength and intelligence, straight after my own heart. You see, I was actually hoping to have caught you by yourself tonight, so this is pretty perfect. I wanted to apologize for yesterday.”

“Yesterday.”

“Yes, spying on the court in the hallway, I really had not meant to do that. Perhaps I wouldn’t have done it had you not been there.”

A raised brow, almost suspicious, but more playful than anything. The Knight shifted an inch in his seat, legs spread wide apart in his comfort, boots planted entirely onto the ground, knees pushed right open, incredibly inviting, hiding his real interest under the houppelande, pleats that hung in between his thighs. Yes, he was staring directly at the Knight’s crotch, and really did not mind about getting caught. In fact, it would’ve made his job far easier if he were.

“So you’re pinning this on me.” The Knight sounded delighted.

“Pinning?” He mused, an image coming to mind with the word, something really very interesting. “Yes, I suppose I am. Will you strip me of the right?”

“Your Highness, I will not strip you of anything.” With that came a brilliant grin that might as well have laughed in his face, and sharp greens that surely saw right through him, the flirting not lost on this man, his advances fully shut down. It pierced him straight through the chest, a sensation that he hadn’t felt in a long time, rejection that he didn’t think he had ever met. His brows raised with surprise.

“I see.” He replied weakly, his mind drawing a blank on what to say next, still recovering from the whiplash that had been tonight’s ruined plans. The thought that he’d probably be sleeping alone still too slippery to grasp.

“Well, it’s getting late, isn’t it? I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

The Knight spoke while making to leave, nearly out of the chair when his hand found the man’s knee, quick to react, his entire body leaning closer for the reach. Their eyes met, his own two eager, and the Knight’s surprised enough to have kept him in place, halfway ready to leave, but ultimately remaining seated. In the perfect stillness between them, he squeezed the knee under his palm.

“As a loyal Knight to the Crown, Sir Leigh, I would highly appreciate it if you didn’t go just yet.”

Stare unbroken, they breathed; a moment of silence growing while the Knight deliberated over the proposal. Usually, the delivery would’ve been a lot more graceful than this, no physical contact needed in the slightest, but he had found himself pressed, and had reacted poorly to it, sure, though better than not having reacted at all. The eyes that watched him were fully impassive, set squarely on his face, this man a lot more difficult to read than he had initially seemed, playing him this entire time and making him believe the very opposite of that. His fingers loosened their hold to caress the hose that kept him from skin contact, fingertips tracing up the man’s knee to slip under the houppelande’s hem, to go further up still, intended to reach what really mattered, but cut short with a hand on his wrist that snatched it away.

“Unfortunately, my prince, I really have to go.”

It stung, of course, having to watch the Knight get up and leave, but, worse than that, it brought a fire to the very center of his chest, the sort of heat that burst from his veins all the way up to his face, a scowl on his forehead, his jaw clenched. Nobody had ever refused him before, the audacity. The face. Even the men who most likely weren’t inclined in this way hadn’t had a big problem with it in the past, so what the fuck? He got up, fists shaking, his entire body tense, and walked back to his room, avoiding the main areas as best as he could; instead of taking the center hallway, he took the back one, and, instead of crossing the foyer balcony, he took the unused little greenhouse in the back. He didn’t like it here, reminded of his mother, and quickly crossed it for the stairway.

The walk to his chambers felt like an instrument of shame, the open door to his brother’s room an obvious trap. Unavoidable, as well, that caught him ten feet from his own door, Sora leaning on the frame simply to wait for him. Ugly behavior, the shit-eating grin on his face even uglier. Roxas wanted to slap him.

“How was it? Did he let you down easy?”

“It’s not over yet, I was only flexing my skills. Tomorrow is the real test.” He spoke on the run, reaching his own door not too long after. “Goodnight.”

“Double the luck to you tomorrow.”

“Keep it.”


End file.
